


In Which Peter Woos the Fuck out of Stiles.

by Bunnywest



Series: Gentleman 'verse [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Good Peter Hale, M/M, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-15 17:52:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11811177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: The gifts are known as the Four Fs of Wooing.There’s  a gift for each one, and the gift must be acceptable in the Omega’s eyes.There’s no second chance – screw up the gifts and you’re done.





	1. The four Fs

**Author's Note:**

> The Wooing gifts were inspired by a comment from Mr Almasy, saying, ' feels,fluff and family, three of my favorite f's"  
> My mind played with that phrase a little...  
> So thank you Siefer, I really did miss your wicked turn of phrase.

Wooing is different  to Courting.

With Courting, there’s a fair bit of leeway regarding the gifts and the number of dates.

 

But Wooing is a more serious level of commitment, and as such, it’s much more structured.

There’s a series of gifts, and they must be acceptable in the Omega’s eyes.

 

The gifts are known as the Four Fs of Wooing.

 

The  gift of _Fidelity_ , to show that the couple intends to be exclusive.

 

The gift of _Finance,_ to show that the Alpha is worthy of the Omega’s attention, and able to spoil them as they deserve.

 

The gift of _Feeling_ s, a token of affection, to publicly display the Alpha’s esteem for their partner.

 

The gift of _Family_ \- something to signify that if any children result from the union, the Alpha will step up and share in their care.

 

There’s no second chance – screw up the gifts and you’re done.

_____________________________________________

 

Peter waits a week before he goes to see Noah, because that’s how long it takes for his first gift to be ready.

 

When Stiles says yes, he wants to hit the ground running.

 

It’s tradition to ask Noah’s permission rather than Derek’s for this next step, so he goes over to the Sheriff’s house as soon as he gets the message saying the gift is ready.

He knocks on the door, and Noah opens it saying “Oh, thank God it’s you”.

“Um…. Is Stiles here?”

Noah runs his hands over his face and sighs.

“Please tell me you’re here to ask to Woo him, if I have to listen to him bitch for one more, day, I swear. All I’ve heard all week is _I told him I’d say yes, why  hasn’t he asked yet? What did I do? Peter hates me now, waah waah waah_ …”

Peter stares at Noah in shock.

He hears Stiles clattering down the stairs then calling “Who is it, is it him?”

He approaches the door, and his face splits in a smile like a sunrise.

Stiles launches himself at Peter and wraps himself around the older man like an octopus, mumbling “Missed you, and missed your giant dick”.

Noah cuffs him round the back of the head and tells him to behave

Stiles doesn’t even try to hide his sheer pleasure at seeing Peter, grinning like a lovesick fool.

Peter’s not much better, to be fair.

 

“What took you so long? Did you ask yet?”  Stiles queries.

“Not yet, Sweetheart. I just got here.” Peter tells him.

 

Noah rolls his eyes as if to say _see?_  and turns to Peter, asking “Beer?”

Peter’s tempted to say yes, but he sees the look on Stiles face and so he declines, saying “Actually Noah, I’d like to ask permission to ask Stiles to Woo him.”

Noah’s response _should_ be something like “ I give permission for you to pursue your suit.”

Noah though, just grins, and says ‘Oh good lord yes, he’s all yours.“

Peter sees where Stiles gets it from.

 

Protocol must be followed though, so he turns to Stiles and asks him formally “Omega Stilinski, will you accept my suit and allow me to Woo you? And should I be successful, may I be your exclusive heat partner until you decide otherwise?”

Stiles, surprisingly, manages the formal reply without mangling it.

Almost.

“Alpha Hale, I accept your suit, and look forwards to receiving the four gifts of Wooing. Fidelity, family….,shit what are the other ones? Anyway, I look forwards to the four gifts of Fuck me, Feed me, Love me, Breed me”.

Noah groans loudly.

“Really, Stiles?”

“What?” he protests. “That’s what everybody calls them”.

‘That’s what _you_ call them”.

 

Noah turns to Peter and asks him “Sure you don’t want to change your mind?” gesturing to his son.

  
 “Nuh uh” Stiles grins. “I said yes, no take-backsies!”

Peter laughs loudly, and drags Stiles in for a kiss.

* * *

 

 

Obviously, the gift of Fidelity is not one usually given in public.

The gifts tend to be…intimate in nature. The implication is that as exclusive heat partners, should the alpha not be available for any reason, the omega will have an option that doesn’t involve sleeping with someone else.

Most Alphas give their omega a dildo.

It’s adequate.

Some less forward thinking Alphas give their omega a chastity device.

It’s normally not accepted.

Peter’s no fool and he knows Stiles was deadly serious when he said he wanted Peter to Woo the fuck out of him, so he actually gave this a fair amount of thought.

He arranges for Stiles to come and collect the gift from his house, and opens the door to see Stiles waiting impatiently, foot tapping, practically vibrating with excitement.

After a passionate kiss in greeting, Stiles makes grabby hands at the box sitting on the coffee table, saying “Gimme!”

Peter smiles fondly. Stiles’ enthusiasm is endearing, to say the least.

He hands over the box.

It’s big.

In fact, it’s exactly the size of the toybox from the hotel.

Stiles’ face lights up as he opens the wrapping to confirm that it’s what he thinks it is.

“Oh my god, you actually got it!’ he crows, eagerly opening the lid.

He stops short when he looks inside.

 

The Precious is in there,along with all the other toys, but there’s also something he hasn’t seen before.

It’s an incredibly realistic looking dildo, and it’s big.

Big, and vaguely familiar looking.....

There’s that big vein…

 

Stiles turns to Peter, eyes wide.

“Is…is this _you_?” he squeaks out.

Peter smiles smugly.

“It certainly is. If you ever go into heat without me there, I still want my cock in you” he tells Stiles.

Stiles' face breaks into a grin.

“Jesus, Peter, you dipped your dick in latex for me. Do you know how awesome that is?”

He's totally taken with the gift, and he strokes it without even realizing what he’s doing.

“So I take it that the first gift of fidelity passes muster then?” Peter asks, amused.

“Well, I don’t know, I mean, is this a good copy? I can’t tell. I can’t remember what the real thing looks like after you made me _wait a week_.”

Stiles looks at him pointedly.

“I might need to….oh, I don’t know, do a side by side comparison?”

He looks hopefully at Peter.

Peter gives a filthy chuckle deep in his throat, and drags Stiles off to the bedroom, still clutching his new toy.

It doesn’t take long until they’re both naked and sprawled on the bed, all hands and mouths and touching and moaning, and Peter can smell the intense arousal and the tang of fresh slick coming off Stiles.

Stiles is stroking and licking, murmuring “so pretty, Peter…” as he devotes all his attention to tasting and touching his length.

Peter’s not protesting.

He pulls Stiles up and flips them over, pressing him into the bed.

“Did you want the fake, or the real thing?”

Stiles’ eyes sparkle with excitement as he breathes out “Both”.

Peter laughs, and slides his fingers down into Stiles’ ass crack, coming back with his hand wet and slippery.  He rubs it over the length of the toy, and then he holds Stiles’ knees up against his chest, and presses it inside slowly.

Stiles makes a satisfied grunt as the full length slips into his waiting channel. It takes a little effort to get it all in because he’s not in heat, so the fit’s a little snug, just like with the real thing.

He loves it.

Peter eases the length in and out slowly, adding a little extra force behind his movements just to hear the _unf unf_ sounds Stiles makes as the air is punched out of him.

He works up to a steady pace, stroking in and out, and his dick twitches every time Stiles makes that little choked off sound.

Finally, the sight and sound of Stiles keening and thrashing with pleasure at being filled is too much, and he pulls the dildo out and drops it off the side of the bed, replacing it with the real thing.

He’s desperate, and holds nothing back as he slams in again and again, and Stiles is hissing out … _yes_ …and.... _fuck_ ….and…. _fill me….,_ and Peter picks up even more speed and force, making Stiles scream out his name as he comes, and it’s not long before Peter follows, pumping his hips and coming with a growl. 

__________________________________________________________

 

Afterwards, Stiles mumbles something into Peter’s chest.

“What was that, Stiles?”

Stiles sighs and moves his head so his face isn’t completely buried in Peter’s muscles.

“I _said_ ” he repeats “Nice dicks”.

“You’ll accept my first wooing gift then? “

“On one condition” Stiles grins.

“Fuck me again, and make me come on your cock”.

Peter reminds him gently “Darling, I _always_ make you come on my cock.”

 

 

 


	2. Finance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is squirrelly about the whole finance gift to start with.
> 
> On the one hand, he doesn’t want Peter to phone it in, but on the other hand, he’s embarrassed to accept something too big. He’s not in this for money, after all, and he refuses to feel like he’s being bought. He thinks there’s nothing tackier than a flashy gift. He’d prefer thoughtful.

Peter turns up at Noah’s with a six pack, saying “Help. Your boy’s impossible.”

Noah folds his arms across his chest, and the corners of his mouth twitch.

“If you’re here to talk about the different ways Stiles can drive you up the wall, we’ll need more beer” he replies.

Peter’s not laughing.

“Stiles is fine.” He pauses, and his expression softens. “Actually, he’s amazing”.

Noah snorts. “You’re a sap, Hale, you know that right?”

“Possibly, just occasionally” Peter concedes.

‘So if you aren’t here to try and get me to take him back, what gives?” Noah asks.

“It’s the damn gift.”

Understanding dawns on Noah’s face.

 

Stiles is squirrelly about the whole finance gift to start with.

 On the one hand, he doesn’t want Peter to phone it in, but on the other hand, he’s embarrassed to accept something too big. He’s not in this for money, after all, and he refuses to feel like he’s being bought. He thinks there’s nothing tackier than a flashy gift. He’d prefer thoughtful.

“Well hell, come in, bring the beer, and I’ll tell you what he likes, see if that helps” Noah offers.

 

Peter’s been racking his brains over this, and he’s no closer to inspiration. He can’t leave the second gift too long – that’s not how Wooing works.

He’d tried just flat out asking Stiles, but his young lover has been out of sorts this past week, and snapped at him, telling him “If you want to Woo me, you can damned well work for it Peter, I’m not doing it for you.”

Peter had raised a brow at him, and Stiles had deflated slightly, muttering out an apology and blaming it on feeling overtired.

Peter had cooed at him sympathetically, and sat running his fingers gently up and down the back of Stiles’ neck , a move that never failed to please him.

“Hmmmm” Stiles had sighed out.

“Seriously though, you have to figure this one out yourself. I’m not going to ask for something that you don’t want to give.”

Which was no help at all.

So now he’s brainstorming with Noah, because he knows that the older man’s squarely in his corner.

 

* * *

 

 

Noah can tell that Stiles and Peter are happy together.

He’d walked in on them being happy together, covering his eyes and groaning out “Goddammit Stiles, did you have to ruin the couch for me? How the hell can I sit on that now? ”

And Stiles had just laughed , while Peter had tried to crawl down the back of said couch, hissing out “You _said_ he was on night shift!”

Noah had thrown a blanket at them, turning his back and stretching before saying loudly “Guess I’ll just step outside for some fresh air for a minute” and leaving the room.

As a hastily dressed and apologetic Peter was leaving a few minutes later, Noah had put a hand on his arm.

Peter had turned, expecting to be roasted, only to be met by an appraising look.

“Do you know how many alphas asked him out before you?” Noah had asked.

“Fourteen”

Peter’s mouth opened slightly

_Fourteen?_

“That’s…. a lot”.

“Yep” Noah said, grimacing. “And he wasn’t polite about turning them down, either. Mind you, they were all assholes. You’re the first one who bothered to find out that he wanted to be courted properly, and who had the balls to do it.”

Noah paused.

“I would never have picked you for his type, I won’t lie. But Stiles knows his own mind, always has. Keep being good to my boy, Peter. I think you might be exactly what he needs.”

Peter had nodded, and headed out to his car to the sounds of Noah telling Stiles that if he found _one damned stain_ on that sofa, he’s paying to have it cleaned.

* * *

 

 

The beer is gone. So are three pizzas – Noah’s logic is that if Stiles doesn’t see him eat it, the bacon doesn’t count.

Peter thinks that Noah can eat as much pizza and bacon as he wants, because he’s finally got an idea that will please Stiles for the gift.

It’s a little quirky, definitely not mainstream, and completely brilliant.

Just like Stiles, he thinks.

He thanks Noah profusely for his help, and goes home to drop a small fortune on Stiles’ gift.

It takes a week for him to track down what he needs and have it delivered.

He pays the invoice, barely glancing at the total. He doesn’t care.

Stiles is going to lose his mind.

* * *

 

The Finance gift is normally delivered in a family setting, so Peter gently carries the giant box  into Noah’s house and places it on the table.

He hands a box cutter to Stiles and lets him slit the tape.

Stiles drags the lid open to find….graphic novels

Comics, if you prefer.

Lots and lots of comics.

Vintage comics, all in great condition.

Batman, Spiderman, Hulk, Wonder Woman, Captain America, all the classics.

He’s pleased to see that there’s no Superman – Peter’s obviously been listening, and knows Stiles can’t stand him.

Supercilious, smug fucker.

(Superman, not Peter.)

Stiles loses himself happily digging through the box, pulling out handfuls of books and seeing what’s there.

It takes Noah clearing his throat to drag him from the issue of X Men that he’s examining.

Stiles was already pretty happy with the gift – most of those comics are collectors’ items, after all.

But he senses something in the air - anticipation, expectation, he’s not sure which.

 

Peter’s standing there, holding a second, smaller box.

Stiles looks between Peter and Noah, and he sees the crinkles in the corner of his Dad’s eyes that mean he knows something.

Peter hands Stiles the box cutter again, saying “I hope you like it, sweetheart.”

He carefully opens the second box.

It’s full of loose foam packing, hiding what’s at the bottom of the box.

 

It’s _Batman._

First edition Batman from 1940.

Carefully wrapped in a mylar bag, with an acid free backing board, sitting innocently in the bottom of the box.

Stiles pales, and turns to Peter, suddenly furious.

“It’s Batman, it’s fucking original Batman. You cruel bastard!”

Noah looks puzzled, asking “Stiles? What’s wrong with it?”

Stiles rounds on him and spits out  “I can’t fucking _read_ it, is what’s wrong with it!”

Peter grins and pulls out a third box, smaller again.

Noah didn’t know about this one.

 

Stiles opens it with shaking hands, still grizzling and griping, muttering “See if I let you keep wooing me, teasing me with shit like that, serve you right if I took it out of the fucking plastic and read it anyway, Jesus Christ, Peter..” his voice trails off as he pulls out a new tablet.

Peter turns it on, and Stiles can see that yes, the contents of the original Batman comic has been downloaded, along with about a thousand others.

He just sits there looking at it, speechless.

Noah’s never seen him so quiet – it’s disturbing.

Stiles opens his mouth, and a sob escapes.

Peter’s there in a moment, before Noah can even blink, cooing and soothing his boy as he sniffles pathetically.

Stiles doesn’t cry for long; it’s not even really crying - more just his emotions overwhelming him.

 “Sorry” he chokes out. “It’s fantastic. It was just…a lot. It caught me by surprise”.

He continues to snuggle up to Peter, wrapping himself around him.

Noah is looking at the Batman comic, and he takes it out of the box, starting to lift the corner of the bag.

Stiles throws himself across the room, shouting “Drop it! Drop it!” and snatching the book from Noah, who looks mildly offended.

“Hell, Stiles, it’s only a comic -  so what if it’s worth a couple hundred bucks?”

Stiles starts to laugh, holding the article to his chest and cradling it.

“Peter -  tell him.”

Peter looks slightly sheepish.

“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind. “.

Noah looks between them and his eyes narrow.

“Hale, exactly how much is that damned thing worth? Is it over a grand?”

Stiles just laughs harder, and now it’s bordering on hysteria.

“Oh shit, this is gold, when you find out you’re gonna die!” he howls, and his earlier tears are  forgotten.

Peter rolls his eyes.

“It’s worth a little more than that Noah, and it’s probably best kept in your safe” he suggests.

“A little more! _A little more_!” 

Stiles is completely gone now.

Finally Noah gives Peter a long, appraising look, and says “I’m gonna go ahead and guess that you’re not telling me in case it keeps me awake at night, am I right?”

Peter gives a tiny shrug that could be interpreted as a yes.

Stiles has calmed a little now, although he’s still giggling sporadically.

He takes a deep breath, and tells his dad “it’s worth eight hundred thousand”.

It’s Noah’s turn to fall silent.

* * *

 

After they determine that Noah’s just stunned, and not having a heart attack as first feared, and after the  gifts have been packed away, ( some decidedly more carefully than others), Peter turns to Stiles, asking him “Does this gift pass muster?”

Stiles crowds him up against the wall, telling him “You have no fucking idea” before messing up Peter’s perfect hair by fisting his hands in it as he kisses him.

Noah’s recovered enough to tell them to get the hell out of his kitchen, he’d like to know there’s at least one room in his house where they haven’t made out.

Peter and Stiles don’t meet his eye as they leave.

They drive to Peter’s at breakneck speed, Stiles grinning and commenting “if he ever carries through on his threat of using a black light on the place, we’ll probably end up having to move”.

“I blame you, you’re a terrible enabler” Peter tells him.

“Excuse me, I’m a fantastic enabler. It’s what I do best!” Stiles retorts.

They race each other up the porch steps like a pair of overeager teens, and honestly? Peter feels eighteen again, heart fluttering, butterflies in his stomach, as he looks at the gorgeous young omega who’s agreed to be his.

He grabs Stiles’ arm and swings him around, drawing him in close to his body and holding him tight.

Stiles tilts his head back, exposing his throat the way he knows Peter’s wolf likes, and his eyes sparkle with mischief as he whispers “ see something you like?”

“Everything” Peter replies smoothly, dipping his head to the scent glands and inhaling. Stiles smells divine, sweet and fresh and eager, and there’s a rumbling deep in Peter’s chest that definitely isn’t purring , thank you very much.

“You’re purring” Stiles observes, grinning.

Peter drags him into the house, pretending not to hear him.

Once inside, Stiles makes quick work of removing his clothes, leaving a trail of discarded items as he heads single-mindedly for the bedroom. Peter’s right behind him, adding to the trail.

Stiles eyes his body with frank appreciation, humming as he runs his hands down the planes of Peter’s chest. “God, I could look at this all day” he sighs.

Peter pulls Stiles in closer, so that they’re pressed against each other, and he can feel how eager Stiles is, hard and urgent against him.

“You could” he agrees easily, “Or I could pin you down and fuck you solidly for an hour until you can’t take anymore, and then fill your ass the way I know you love.”

He pauses.

“I mean, it’s your choice.”

Stiles makes a high pitched whining sound at the thought, and pushes Peter back onto the bed, panting “that one, do that one.”

Peter slides his hands down Stiles back and into the cleft of his ass, where he finds that Stiles is dripping and ready for him.

“I live to serve you, my omega lord” he says, grinning devilishly.

And he rolls them smoothly, spreads Stiles legs wide, and begins to press in deep.

“Wait, wait” Stiles cries out, and Peter stops immediately.

“Something wrong sweetheart?”

Stiles is panting below him, face flushed. It takes him a moment to gather himself.

“Just feels like a lot – maybe start slow?”

Peter obliges, slowly inching his way inside to a chorus of groans and bitten off swear words, but Stiles tells him to keep going, so he does, until he bottoms out.

“Holy fuck Peter, did you get bigger? That feels fantastic, but damn it’s a tight fit” Stiles tells him, breathless. “You can move, by the way” he adds, rolling his hips.

Peter rocks in and out in a gentle rhythm, and Stiles sighs and moans and whimpers beneath him, and he’s dripping slick, and Peter never wants it to end.

They chase their pleasure slowly, softly, as if they have all the time in the world.

Peter can feel the moment when Stiles is ready for more, the pulsing rhythm of his channel speeding up slightly, becoming more pronounced as it clenches and squeezes deliciously around him, and he closes his eyes and rides it out, following along with the demands of the omega’s body willingly.

Stile’s cries take on a more urgent tone, and he pleads for more, and harder, and Peter gives him everything he asks for.

Stiles pulls him down, chasing his mouth for a kiss, and the feeling of the soft lips brushing against his feels divine, and Peter can’t help but moan at the sensation, and snap his hips a little faster.

“Oh fuck yes, right there” hisses Stiles, arching his back in pleasure. Peter thrusts in again, once, twice, and Stiles comes suddenly, spurting hot come between them.

Peter feels the tightness around him, and he’s helpless to resist the squeeze and pull of Stiles body, bringing him to his own climax.

He drives in deep as he comes, filling the younger man just as he’d promised, leaving them both gasping with pleasure.

He pulls out slowly and rolls off, careful not to crush Stiles under his weight, and lays there for a moment, panting.

A quick glance at the clock tells Peter that time has gotten away from them, that he did indeed fuck Stiles into the mattress for over an hour.

Time flies, and all that.

He’s gathering himself to go and get a towel to clean them up, when he hears a soft snore.

Stiles is asleep, completely spent, but even as he dozes, there’s a small satisfied smile playing on his lips.

He looks adorable, and Peter can’t help but lean in and kiss his forehead gently.

 

He feels the gift was a success.


	3. Finance 2.0 - The confession.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell me Peter, just how do you make a living? Because nobody seems to know, exactly, and call me foolish, but as the son of the Sheriff, it might put my mind at ease if I knew that the man who’s wooing me isn’t, say a mob boss?”
> 
> “Oh, I have a few sidelines” Peter answers vaguely. “They’re quite lucrative.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can all blame SophiaAlmasy for this.  
> She's a bad influence.  
> I love her for it.

Stiles stirs about half an hour later, and Peter definitely hasn’t spent that time watching him sleep and quietly scenting him, don’t be ridiculous.

And he’s definitely not softly carding a hand through his hair when Stiles mumbles out “Stop pawing me, Peter, I’m sleeping”.

Peter obligingly removes his hand, shushing Stiles gently.

Stiles snuggles into the bed for a moment longer, and then his eyes snap open suddenly.

“Fuck. You bought me Batman.”

“Yes, I did”.

Stiles props himself up on one elbow and looks at Peter, expression serious.

“You have to take it back. “

Peter asks him “Are you rejecting me, Stiles?”

He’s only slightly worried.

“Yes. No. I mean yes, I accept the Woo and all, but Peter, I can’t take that kind of money from you. It’s too much. You may as well have bought me a damned house. Two houses. I’m happy just with the other books, honestly”

“But you loved the Batman” Peter observes.

“I did love the Batman, but not enough that I’m going to send you broke over it.”

Peter arches a brow.

“What on earth makes you think that’s going to send me broke? I assure you, I’m well able to cover the cost of that, and more. I wouldn’t have bought it otherwise.”

Stiles sit up in bed then, and fixes Peter with a Look.

“Oh, I can afford that, and more’ he says casually like he didn’t just _drop over half a million dollars on a gift”._

“Tell me Peter, just how _do_ you make a living? Because nobody seems to know, exactly, and call me foolish, but as the son of the Sheriff, it might put my mind at ease if I knew that the man who’s wooing me isn’t, say a mob boss?”

“Oh, I have a few sidelines” Peter answers vaguely. “They’re quite lucrative.”

Stiles’ tone is dripping with sarcasm as he says “Oh wow, thank you _ever_ so much for clarifying that for me,  I feel _sooooo_ much better now.”

His level of annoyance is evident in the speed with which he pulls himself away from Peter and out of bed, gathering his clothes and tugging them on haphazardly.

He heads towards the door, calling out " Peter Hale, you damned well tell me, or this whole thing is off. You either trust me or you don’t”

 Peter’s out of bed in a flash, and standing naked in from of the door with his arms spread wide in surrender.

“Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. But nobody else can know.”

Stiles stops where he is then, and considers.

“Depends. Is it legal?”

“Absolutely and completely”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Not at all”.

“So, not a hitman” muses Stiles.

“Why does it have to stay a secret then?”

“My fans wouldn’t like it” Peter sighs.

“Your what, now – Peter, are you a _stripper_?”

“Honestly? I almost wish that I was.”

 

Stiles has a hungry gleam in his eye as he demands "tell me everything".

 

Peter sits him down and tells him, and suddenly a whole lot of things start to make sense.

* * *

 

 

It honestly started as a way to kill time. That, and he’d read one of those cheesy Mills and Boon novels that he’d found at an airport somewhere and thought “I could write better than that, just pulling stuff out of a hat.”.

So he had, for a joke.

It had turned out surprisingly well.

He’d sent the manuscript off to one of those never-ending ’Find our newest author competitions” complete with a fabricated identity.

He was bored, and slightly drunk.

He never expected to win the damned thing, and then to have to explain that he actually wasn’t a 76 year old omega widow who had based her book on “The adventures of my youth in the deep south” but was, in fact a strapping healthy male werewolf.

The publishers didn’t care.

They were, in fact, delighted.

They suggested that since he was a healthy, virile alpha wolf, he might have experiences that he could draw on to write for their more….adult line of fiction.

Once he’d finished laughing, they told him how much he could make per novel writing thinly veiled straight porn.

He’d laughed slightly less then.

He'd agreed, because really, the writing was as easy as breathing.

And easy money is the best money, in Peter’s opinion.

So he writes, on average, a couple of three hundred page bodice rippers a week.

He has three pen names.

He’s used the same author bio blurb for each one and nobody’s noticed yet.

When he’s writing the steamier scenes, just for fun, he puts commonly used phrases into a two hats, one for each partner, and pulls them out at random,   creating  a sex scene that way.

It’s both entertaining and depressing how well it works, he tells Stiles.

 

_“________ thrust deep, earning a groan”_

_“She moaned at the sudden fullness as ______ drove into her relentlessly”_

_“Head thrown back, she cried out as ______ gave her pleasure unlike any she’d ever known”_

_“He looked down and saw____’s eyelids fluttering closed in ecstasy”._

 

Nobody except his editor knows his true identity.

He’s been doing it for ten years, and between the fee per manuscript and the royalties he’s negotiated, it’s made him obscenely wealthy.

* * *

 

Stiles stares at him as he finishes his confession, and suddenly his eyes light up.

“You wrote all of those, didn’t you”.

He indicates to a bookcase in the far corner that is filled to overflowing with the novels.

Peter sighs.

“They keep sending me advance copies, and I just can’t seem to throw them away” he admits.

Stiles is grinning, one part relief that Peter’s not a criminal, one part amusement at how he makes his money.

“I did wonder why a gay man had so many novels about single women and their heaving breasts“ he says, looking more closely at the bookshelf.

One particular set of books catches his eye, and he turns around holding them, beaming.

“Oh my God, you wrote Belinda Brightheart!”

Peter nods.

Stiles starts cackling madly, pointing and waving, trying to get a sentence out.

“No, you….the school library……they banned them….said they were risqué…..Jackson snuck them home…… “.

“He said…….because a woman wrote them……..  it must be the real thing……..he used them as reference books…..Poor Lydia!”

 

Apparently Peter’s Porn from a Hat was Jackson Whittemore’s primary source of dating advice when he was younger.

 

Stiles has tears streaming down his face, as he waves about one of the novels, gasping “you made this shit up….out of a hat….”

He’s actually physically rolling around the floor now, and has lost control completely.

Peter gets a mischievous look as he offers “I can show you the hat, if you want?” “We could…..see what we come up with?”

“Oh god, no, I can’t, I’ll die if I laugh any more” Stiles gets out, clutching his aching sides .

He settles for letting Peter read him passages is his sexiest voice.

 Somehow the ridiculous prose is slightly less ridiculous when it’s being drawled out in Peter's velvety voice, and Stiles finds himself relaxing, closing his eyes and laying back on the bed as the smooth tones roll over him, soothing him back to sleep.

* * *

 

He doesn’t wake until the next morning, and he still feels like he’s been hit by a truck.

Peter’s already up, and he frowns when he sees Stiles grimacing as he sits up.

‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Stiles runs his hands over his sides absently, saying “I swear to God Peter, I laughed so hard last night that I’ve actually pulled a muscle.”

He smirks, and tells Peter “The thought of you being a porn writer is my new happy place.”

“It’s not porn, it’s historical drama slash romance” Peter informs him with a completely straight face.

“It’s porn for old ladies, and you know it“ Stiles shoots back.

Then his face splits in a grin and he amends “Old ladies and Jackson…”

Peter once again swears him to secrecy, and Stiles demands one exception.

“Please, can I tell my Dad? He’s convinced you’re some sort of criminal mastermind. He thinks I don’t know, but he’s been trying to dig up the dirt on you for months and he’s come up with nothing. It’s driving him crazy.”

“You can tell him..... I write freelance” Peter concedes, and Stiles happily agrees to the compromise.

 

 Since Stiles is feeling more rested, and they have the morning to themselves, they play Scenes From A Hat.

 

It’s a gooood game, Stiles slurs out later, as he starts to doze while wrapped securely around Peter.

 

 


	4. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I want something low key" Stiles insists.

Stiles puts his foot down for the third gift.

“Peter Hale, you are not, under any circumstances, to go over the top on this gift. You are not to spend an obscene amount of money, and you are not to hire, oh, say a marching band and a Heath Ledger lookalike to serenade me” Stiles says pointedly, because he knows Peter secretly loves that movie.

Damn.

“What about two trumpets and a drummer?” Peter offers.

“I mean it. The last thing I want is a big giant public display. I want _low key_ ”

Peter supposes that at least Stiles has given him some guidance this time. The Feelings gift is both the easiest and the hardest one.

Easy, because Peter knows exactly how he feels about Stiles.

And he’s sure Stiles already knows how he feels.

Fairly sure, anyway.

After all, he suggested this whole wooing thing.

But finding a way to _show_ how he feels? It’s harder than it seems.

Especially now that the marching band’s off the table.

“Stop thinking so hard, and come back to bed” Stiles demands, and when Peter sees the lascivious look on Stile’s face he’s fairly certain that there won’t be any sleep involved.

* * *

 

 

Noah, surprisingly, refuses to help.

“Not with feelings” he says firmly. “That one’s too personal, and I’m not getting involved “

Peter briefly thinks about asking Scott, then he remembers that he’s an idiot.

He thinks about the only helpful thing Noah had said.

"The important part isn’t the public display, Peter. The important part’s the affection”.

Right, then.

He doesn’t sleep that night, sitting up and writing  and thinking about what the hell he can do to show Stiles how  very fond he is of him.

Publicly, but not too publicly, and meaningfully.

By the time his main character has been swept away in the arms of the mighty alpha hero of his latest masterpiece, he has a plan.

* * *

 

 

Stiles is at work three days later when there’s a delivery for him.

Roses.

Lots and lots of red roses.

Nice, he thinks to himself, and smiles.

He did ask for nothing too much, after all.

 

An hour later, there’s another delivery.

Chocolates.

Gorgeous handmade delicacies from Europe.

 

Flowers and chocolates – can’t beat the classics.

He’d thought that Peter might have been a little more original, but still.

It’s nice.

It’s what he asked for.

So why does he feeling disappointed?

 

An hour after that, there’s a bouquet of helium balloons printed with hearts and flowers.

He looks at them and sighs, and ponders the wisdom of insisting quite so strongly on “low key”.

He decides he’s being ungrateful, and it’s because Peters’ spoiled him up till now.

So he smiles brightly at the delivery guy, and thanks him, and makes noises about how pretty they are, and acts like he’s thrilled to bits.

Before he leaves though, the man hands him an envelope, Stiles’name written in Peter’s bold script on the front.

He opens the envelope eagerly, but all that’s inside is a card that says

**_My place_ **

**_5p.m._ **

 

Oh.

He sighs, and his boss eyes him from across the room.

“Thought you said this guy liked you? And this is the best he can do?”

“He does. I asked him to tone it down, actually. I insisted on low key” Stiles defends his lover.

“Mmmph” is the only reply he gets, and secretly he agrees.

 

* * *

 

It’s quarter to five when Stiles arrives at Peter’s house, and he’s not even there.

Stiles knocks repeatedly on the door, but there’s no reply, so he resigns himself to waiting on the doorstep like a stray dog.

Honestly, he’d expected some type of surprise to be waiting, maybe Peter laid out on the bed wearing nothing but a smile and a cock ring, or a romantic dinner, but no.

He can’t even get in the damned door.

He texts Peter.

**_I’m here where are you?_ **

It’s a text from Peter.

**_Shit. I’m right behind you sweetheart._ **

Really? Now he’s not even on time? Stiles feels his ire rising.

Peter’s car pulls into the driveway and he scrambles out the driver’s door and races up the steps to where Stiles is waiting, arms folded, foot tapping impatiently.

“So sorry darling, I went to collect your gift and they couldn’t find it”.

At the word ‘gift’ Stiles perks up a little, and the tension in his shoulders loosens.

“So where is it then?” he asks, because there’s no sign of any gift box or bag.

“Close your eyes” Peter insists.

Stiles does so, and can hear Peter moving around.

When he opens them Peter hands him another card.

“This would have worked better if you hadn’t been early, by the way”.

The card says **_“ Look down low_** ”.

 

There’s a tiny box on the doorstep.

Stiles bends down and picks up the box.

Peter looks uncertain as he says “I thought you’d like to have these, and maybe come and go as you please, and possibly bring a few things over, and if we don’t drive each other completely up the wall,  stay?”

The box holds a set of house keys.

Stiles takes a moment to get it.

Low keys.

Stiles snickers.

“So, this is your gift of affection? A terrible pun and an offer to move in?”

‘Well only if you want to, but yes”.

Stiles has never seen Peter look so nervous.

Normally he’s all smooth charm and knowing looks and wit and sarcasm and sex on legs, and Stiles loves all those thing about him, he realises with a start.

‘Stiles?”

Peter’s still waiting for an answer.

Stiles, for once, does things exactly right.

“Alpha Hale, I accept this token of your feelings for me” he states formally, as he grabs the keys with a delighted grin.

Peter’s answering smile is breathtaking, even as he pulls his phone out, saying “This is meant to be a public display, remember?” and snaps a picture of the two of them holding the keys.

He posts it to Facebook and Instagram with the hashtags #wooingdoneright #acceptedmygift

Stiles looks at the post for a minute, before turning to him and saying “I love it”

“I love you, too” says Peter, before he realises what Stiles actually said.

There’s a moment of tense silence between them, before Stiles says “I beg your pardon?”

Peter groans and runs his hands over his face.

“That is….not how I thought this would go. At all” he sighs.

Stiles is standing there, looking stunned.

“You love me?”

Peter shrugs.

“Really?”

So much for the smooth declaration he’d been planning.

“Do you have to ask, Stiles? I’d have thought it was obvious by now. God help me, but I adore you”.

Stiles kisses him softly, because he doesn’t know what else to do.

They break apart, and Stiles looks at the keys in his hand, and latches onto the distraction, sliding them into the lock and opening the door.

Peter follows him, but they're both very subdued.

 

* * *

 

 

There is a romantic dinner inside after all, a tray of soft cheeses and cold meats to start with, and slow cooked beef in a rich sauce, all waiting to be consumed.

Stiles nibbles at the cold platter silently, but he’s not really hungry.

He still can’t believe that Peter said he loved him.

And that he didn’t say it back.

And now the moment’s gone, and Peter’s watching him carefully, and he’s fucked this up so badly.

He sighs deeply.

Peter says nothing, just keeps watching him, waiting for him to start talking.

Finally, Stiles caves.

“Soooo, that thing you said”….. he begins.

Peter hmmms at him.

“It caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

Peter doesn’t reply, busying himself with the food.

 

“Say it again?” Stiles suggests shyly.

Peter glances up at him, and sees the hopeful expression on his face.

He sighs, and tells Stiles “I understand if you don’t feel the same, but I do love you, you know.”

Stile can’t help the smile that creeps onto his lips as he says “The feeling’s mutual, actually”.

Peter’s head snaps up in surprise, as he asks “Really?”

It’s Stiles turn to shrug.

“Nobody’s more shocked than me, but apparently I’ve fallen for your old wolfy porn writing ass. What can I say? You’re an excellent woo-er”.

Peter looks affronted.

“Who are you calling old?”

“Hey, it the shoe fits….”Stiles grins, breathing easier now that they’ve addressed the elephant in the room.

“I’m not the one who falls asleep every time we make love” Peter observes.

“I do not, not every time” Stiles protests.

And he takes Peter to bed just to prove him wrong.

* * *

 

Peter’s not sure why or how, but he swears Stiles is getting more attractive. He smells sweeter, and he’s so wet and ready for him, and sinking into him is bliss, drawing a groan from them both.

It’s their third round, and Peter knows he’ll be done after this, but being the third time round also means he can last longer and really savor the experience.

Stiles seems to feel the same way, because he’s riding Peter slowly and steadily, not in any hurry, just enjoying the tug and pull of their bodies together. Peter loves watching him as he rocks lazily up and down, and he trails his hands over Stiles’ body, enjoying the contact. Stiles shivers as he does so, yelping and saying “ticklish!’ and so Peter obligingly moves his hands elsewhere.

“Thanks. Love you” says Stiles casually, and his face lights up when Peter says it back.

They take a long time, and when it’s over, Stiles is once again dozing.

Peter nudges him, and says “See? Every time”

Stiles’ eyes snap open as he protests “I wasn’t sleeping, I was thinking deep thoughts.”

“Fine, if you’re awake, you can go and lock up, seeing as you live here now” Peter teases.

Stiles meanders out of bed and locks the front door, and the noise that the key makes sounds a lot like coming home.

 

 

 

 


	5. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Really though, do we have to do the last one? You know I’ll accept it, you could just buy me a pair of baby bootees or something” Stiles comments.  
> "It's not like we;re going to need it anytime soon"

It doesn’t even occur to Stiles to call his Dad about his change in living arrangements until the next morning, when he wakes to the smell of breakfast cooking.

“Oh my god, is that bacon? I accept your wooing gift” he tells Peter happily.

“It’s not wooing bacon Stiles, calm down” Peter smiles. He looks happy and relaxed, he still has sex hair, and Stiles wants to lick him all over.

“Really though, do we have to do the last gift? You know I’ll accept it, you could just buy me a pair of baby bootees or something” Stiles comments.

“Certainly not - it’s matter of pride for my _old wolfy porn writing ass_ that I sweep you off your feet” Peter tells him, grinning.

“S’not like we’ll need it any time soon, anyway” Stiles says.

He stops suddenly, struck by a stray thought.

“That shot you got.”

Peter nods.

“How long after you get that is it effective?”

Peter thinks for a minute, before telling him “because it lasts six months and there was a little overlap with the last one, it would have been effective immediately, why?”

“I just had this horrible thought that since my heat was a couple of days early and you came pretty much straight from the doctors’ that it mightn’t have kicked in” Stiles admits.

“I thought the same thing, so I checked with them before I came to collect you – we’re fine” Peter assures him.

Stiles breathes the tiniest of sighs of relief.

Peter regards him with an amused expression.

“How is it that it’s taken this long for that to even occur to you?” he asks Stiles.

Stiles shrugs, and steals the rest of Peter’s bacon.

“Too busy having fun?” he offers.

“Yes well, at least one of us is a responsible adult. Speaking of adult, were you going to call Noah today?”

“Shit. I should call him and tell him where I am” Stiles says, worried.

“Relax, I texted him that you’re here. Like a responsible adult” Peter smirks.

He doesn’t tell Stiles that Noah knew what he was planning to ask and wholeheartedly endorsed it.

Stiles finishes eating and heads home to talk to Noah, and Peter starts moving a few things to make room for another person, and thinks about what he can give Stiles for a family gift.

He reflects that Stiles is right, it’s not like they’ll need it any time soon.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter’s in his office the next day when he gets the call from the clinic.

“Mr Hale? We need you to come down to the clinic as soon as possible.”

Peter tenses.

“Why do I need to come down?”

“There’s an issue”.

That’s all they’ll tell him over the phone, insisting he come down.

He schedules an appointment for later that day, and proceeds to drive himself crazy wondering what’s going on.

He doesn’t tell Stiles.

But he does turn up nearly an hour early, and then paces around the waiting room like a caged animal until they usher him into the Doctor’s office.

The Doctor starts with “I’m sure that there’s no reason for you to be concerned, we’ve only called you in as a precaution, so please remain calm.”

Peter does not remain calm.

He growls out “What the hell’s going on?”

The doctor hesitates, and makes sure that he’s safely behind the desk before he says “there was a…quality control issue with the contraceptive injection you received.”

“What?”

“It may not be completely effective - only about eighty five percent”.

Peter takes a deep breath.

Eighty five, that’s not so bad.

Eighty five’s still pretty good, in fact.

He breathes out slowly, relieved.

But he’s a responsible adult, so he checks.

“What does that mean in real terms, for me?”

“Honestly? You’ll probably be fine, but we’re advising caution and the use of condoms until you get another injection.”

Peter relaxes a little then, saying “ Let’s do it today. I have an omega I’m wooing, and he can be…demanding. I don’t want to make him wait”.

The doctor’s ears prick up then.

“Wooing? That’s very traditional of you” he comments. “Lucky man”.

Peter smiles softly.

“Yes, during his last heat he asked me to Woo him, and it’s going well.”

 “His last heat” the doctor repeats.

“Tell me Mr Hale, was the heat before or after this last shot?”

“Immediately after, so I would still have been covered by the previous shot, surely” Peter replies.

The doctor drops his pen.

Then he shuffles through Peter’s file.

“Dates?” he asks, all business.

Peter tells him.

He frowns at the calendar. “It ran short?” he asks.

“Four days” replies Peter.

The doctor pales a little.

 

Peter fixes him with a stare, folds his arms across his chest, and says “Tell me everything, and tell me now.”

The doctor sighs, and tells Peter “The shots didn’t work. There was an incident at the factory, details aren’t important. We issued shots from that batch to over two hundred alphas, and of the six who spent a heat with their partner, there have been five pregnancies. You and your omega managed to spend a heat together in the two day window where you were fertile. It’s incredibly bad timing on your part.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t see how any of this was _on my part_ “ Peter snaps.

“You’re the ones who screwed this up, not me, and certainly not Stiles. And if I hear one word implying that there’s any fault on the part of anyone other than your clinic, I’ll be very upset.” he growls out, furious that there’s even a whisper of a suggestion that _they_ might be the ones responsible for this mess.

 ”Bring him in as soon as you can. We need to run the test and eliminate the possibility of pregnancy. Let’s not panic yet.” The doctor soothes him.

Peter sighs, trying to think of a way to broach the subject with Stiles.

As the doctor sweeps the paper back into his file he remarks offhandedly “I mean, I’m assuming he hasn’t been showing any signs of pregnancy?”

Peter arches a brow at him.

“Such as?”

The doctor ticks off on his fingers

_Excessive tiredness_

_Nausea_

_Forgetfulness_

_Mood swings_

_Increased sensitivity during sex_

_Sweeter scent when aroused_

_Muscle pain in his midsection_

_Lack of appetite._

He looks expectantly at Peter, saying “he’s not experiencing any of those, is he?”

“He’s….not nauseous” Peter offers weakly .

“…probably” he adds, remembering the way Stiles had picked at dinner the night before.

“Well, fuck” says the doctor, in a manner that’s distinctly unprofessional.

“Obviously, there’ll be a sizable payout, and we’ll cover costs if he wants a termination - ” the doctor starts.

Peter holds up his hand at the word termination.

“I have no intention of discussing what Stiles may want to do” he says sharply. “It’s not my choice to make, if there even is a choice to be made.”

“Bring him for the test” the doctor states.

“Then we’ll see.”

* * *

 

At heart, Peter’s a man who likes all his ducks in a row.

His ducks are not in a row.

They’re currently wandering onto the road in rush hour traffic.

And he’s freaking out, to put it mildly.

He has to find a way to tell Stiles that he needs a pregnancy test, without making him panic.

But first, he has to find a damned family gift.

He snorts at the irony.

He wonders if fitting out the spare room as a nursery would be too much.

 

In the end, he decides fuck it, he’s going all out.

Whatever he gets, it looks like they’ll need it.

 

The worst of it isn’t even that Stiles might be pregnant.

That’s actually…not a terrible thought, if he’s honest with himself, although he’s certain Noah will want to string him up by his balls when he finds out.

The worst of it is that he’s terrified that Stiles will think he’s planned this.

It’s not unheard of, for an alpha to ‘accidentally’ impregnate their partner, in an effort to make them agree to stay.

He’s ninety five percent sure Stiles won’t think that, but the other five percent of him is convinced that Stiles will believe the worst and refuse to see him again.

At night, it goes up to about seven percent.

Between 2 am and 4 am it peaks at nine.

By the time the next morning rolls around, he’s cranky and tired, and immensely glad that he’d asked Stiles to spend the night with his father, citing the excuse that he’s preparing his last gift and wants it to be a surprise.

It’s not a total lie.

 Peter discovers that it’s entirely possible to arrange for a room to be painted, decorated, and furnished as a nursery in under twelve hours, if you have enough cash.

 And as the last workman leaves, and he looks at the room, painted in soft mint green and muted creams, he has to admit that it looks impressive.

He hopes Stiles likes it, especially since he’s going to use the room as a distraction before telling him about what the doctor said.

 

He calls him the next morning, telling him he can come over and see his gift.

Stiles walks in the door, sniffing at the bite of fresh paint in the air, and looking pleased.

Peter covers his eyes and leads him to the newly decorated room, revealing it with a flourish and a “Ta dah!”

Stiles looks wonderingly at the refurbished spare room, running his hand idly over the cot and the rocking chair, and fiddling with the mobile.

He turns to Peter, smiling broadly, and tell him ”I accept. Congratulations, you’re stuck with me.”

And even though it was only a formality, Peter still feels pride swell in his chest that someone as gorgeous and smart as Stiles would choose someone like him.

He leads Stiles over to the rocking chair, and sits him down.

Stiles rocks absently, still looking at all the small touches in the room, and before Peter can tell him about the failed injection, he asks Peter “so, I know it’s part of the deal, but you do want children with me, right?“

“Of course sweetheart, whenever you’re ready” Peter tells him.

 “What if I say in two years?” Stiles asks.

“Perfectly fine” Peter assures him.

“So, what if I said I wanted them sooner?”

“It’s your call, darling” Peter tells him.

“Like, much sooner?” he asks.

“Any time you want, sweetheart” Peter replies.

 

 

He  hesitates then, before saying “There is something I need to talk to you about though.”

Stiles looks shifty.

He puts his hand into his jeans pocket and pulls out a tiny white stick.

It has two blue lines on it.

“Same here” he confesses.

Peter just stares at the stick.

Stiles stares with him, but it the two blue lines stay there stubbornly.

 

“I just took it to prove I wasn’t pregnant, because I was so tired, and cranky, and somebody said I might be“ Stiles finally whispers.

“I didn’t expect this”.

Peter takes Stiles hands in his and begins to explain.

“I had a call from the clinic” he starts.

“There was a problem with the shots…”

 

 


	6. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The following day, they go to the clinic to have the pregnancy confirmed, and there are many apologies, and Stiles turns down the offer of a termination flatly, and upon hearing him do so Peter feels a little tension leave him.  
> He knows Stiles had said he wouldn’t, but still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just to wrap up some loose ends, and then I promise there'll be a separate story in which we meet the absolute treasure that is pregnant Stiles.   
> No, really, he's a delight.  
> Honest.

 

Peter tells Stiles about the call from the clinic, and about his conversation with the doctor.

He relays the doctor’s offer of a termination, saying “It’s entirely your choice sweetheart, and you know I'll support your decision, whatever it is.”

Stiles’ eyes flick around the room, taking in the baby furniture, and he shakes his head imperceptibly.

“I can’t do that, Peter. It’s probably the sensible thing, but… I can’t. I’m sorry”

Peter pulls him up out of the rocking chair and into a tender kiss, saying “Don’t be sorry, sweetheart”.

Stiles pulls back and looks at him, saying “You’re really OK with this?”

Peter nuzzles into his neck, holding him close for a moment.

“Stiles, I didn’t plan it, and I didn’t think I wanted it, but now it’s happened, I honestly can’t wait.”

Stiles visibly relaxes, and they hug each other, standing close, swaying and scenting for long minutes.

 

The following day, they go to the clinic to have the pregnancy confirmed, and there are many apologies, and Stiles turns down the offer of a termination flatly, and upon hearing him do so Peter feels a little tension leave him.

He knows Stiles had said he wouldn’t, but still.

 

* * *

 

 

They go to see Noah.

Peter starts to tell the story, being sure not to miss any details.

Noah's looking more and more confused as Peter loses his nerve and starts to ramble, his eyes straying to Noah's side arm.

Stiles quickly loses patience, saying “Jesus Peter, get to the point.”

 He rolls his eyes then and takes over, saying “Long story short – medical malfunction, now I’m pregnant,congratulations you’re a Grandad, yes we’re keeping it, we don’t know, we don’t know, we don’t know”.

Noah’s mouth falls open as he takes a moment to process the news.

 

“Stiles, what don’t we know?” Peter asks him.

“We don’t know the sex, the due date, wolf or human, we have zero clue.”

“So really, anything Peter. We don’t know anything .”

Noah turns to them then, and surprisingly, he laughs.

“Not knowing anything’s pretty much the default setting as a parent, son.”

“You’re not mad?” Stiles asks, surprised.

  
“Oh, I’m mad as hell. But not at you two. But you better sue the goddamn _ass_ off that clinic” he growls out.

“Oh, I don’t know” says Peter with a gleam in his eye.

“The clinic’s as much a victim as we are I’d say. If we’re going after anyone, it’s the manufacturer”.

 

Stiles looks between the two of them, and suddenly his bottom lip quivers, and a tiny choked sound escapes.

“I didn’t want any of this, what the hell am I going to do? My whole future’s ruined” he sobs brokenly, as tears well up in his eyes.

Peter races to reassure him, pulling him into a hug, and he feels Stiles’ shoulders shaking as he cries.

“Oh darling, I’m so sorry” he soothes, looking helplessly at Noah, and he’s surprised to see Noah standing with his arms folded, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“You can cut that shit out right now, kiddo” Noah states.

Stiles lifts his head from Peter’s shoulder, and he says “too much?”

What?

“Kid’s been able to cry at the drop of a hat since he was six. Got himself out of a whole helluva lot of detentions that way” Noah tells Peter.

Peter still looks lost.

 

Stiles turns to him then, and the tears have dried, and his face is hard as he states “I’m practicing. Nothing gets a giant payout quicker that a poor, helpless, crying omega”.

“We’re going to make those bastards _pay_ for this.”

Peter thinks he shouldn’t be as turned on as he is by this ruthless side of Stiles.

But he still takes him home and fucks him senseless.

 

* * *

 

 

And in the end, there’s a class action - fourteen omegas in all fell pregnant from the faulty shots.

And Stiles is the poster boy for them all.

A helpless, crying, teenage pregnant omega with wide, whiskey colored eyes, holding his tiny belly and sobbing “it’s just so sudden, I never expected this” to the cameras, while his exceedingly handsome and charming alpha soothes him and kisses the back of his hand?

It’s their lawyer’s dream come true.

The all get a payout of 2.7 million.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They tell the pack.

Derek can’t stop smiling.

Isaac, surprisingly, cries happy tears.

Scott just hugs him and claims title of Favorite Uncle.

Until Derek growls, and tells him “That’s taken”.

 


	7. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds Stiles' ruthless streak to be incredibly arousing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of smut for my lovelies.

Stiles’ ruthless streak awakens something primal in Peter.

He sees a glimpse of the ferociously protective parent his partner will be, and it arouses the hell out of him.

So when they leave Noah’s and head home, it takes all of his self control not to pull over on the side of the road, pull Stiles onto his lap, and fuck him right in the driver’s seat.

Stiles knows, of course, and he laughs at him, saying “Jesus Peter, I can smell how turned on you are. Desperate much?”

But he can hardly talk, because Peter can smell the slick that Stiles is leaking, and he can see him squirming in his seat.

 

As they pull up, Stiles is out of the car and unlocking the door before Peter’s even taken his keys out of the ignition.

And by the time Peter makes it in the door, Stiles is already naked and waiting in their bed.

He has a hand on his cock, pumping slowly, and his head is thrown back as he moans in pleasure.

Peter strips quickly and joins him on the bed, running his hands over the long lean body in front on him.

He kisses Stiles deeply, and rubs their bodies together, grinding into Stiles’ hip.

“Fucking tease” Stiles mutters, and tries to move their bodies so that he can get on top of Peter, but the older man holds him in place and just keeps pressing them together, kissing him and nipping at his throat.

Stiles lets out a moan.

“Oh god, that  feels so good. More?”

Peter sucks and kisses his way down Stiles’ body.

“Cock,Peter, I want it” Stiles groans out, and his tone lets Peter know that he’s not really asking.

 So he pulls those long legs over his shoulders, and wastes no time sliding into the inviting slickness that’s in front of him.

Stiles hisses, and Peter stills.

“Did I say stop?” Stiles demands.

Peter rolls his eyes. “Demanding little thing, aren’t you” he says, as he plunges further in.

Stiles grabs Peter by the hips, pulls him close, and demands “Fuck me, hard.”

Peter wouldn’t dream of disobeying a pregnant man.

He picks up his pace, and soon he’s slamming in and out, grunting with each thrust and feeling his climax approach at roughly the speed of a freight train.

Stiles is below him, panting out “ _fuck fuck fuck_ ” and bucking his hips up instinctively. Peter can tell that he’s close as well, so he redoubles his efforts, driving in as hard as he can.

Stiles stiffens below him suddenly, and clenches down, coming without warning.

The squeeze is overwhelming, and Peter gasps at the sensation.

It’s so tight that he can’t even come – Stiles is effectively acting like a cock ring.

He has no choice but to wait until the ring of muscle loosens a little, allowing him to move.

And then it’s once, twice, and he’s done.

The waves of pleasure wash over him and he savors the feeling of coming inside Stiles.

There’s nothing like it.

He pulls out reluctantly, and shuffles them around so he can spoon up behind Stiles.

He can’t help but cup one hand over Stiles’ belly.

There’s nothing there yet, but he imagines how he will look when there is, and it sends a shiver up his spine.

Stiles yawns out “Leave the baby alone.”

Peter ignores him.

He’s smiling as he says “There’s a baby in you, Stiles”

“Well, yeah”

“Do you know what that does to me? My god, the thought of you, all gorgeous and round and full, it probably makes me sound like a caveman, but it drives me wild” Peter tells him.

Stiles presses back against him, murmuring, ”Oh,really? Drives you wild huh? Wild enough for another round?”

Peter snuggles up, rubbing against Stiles, saying “Maybe… persuade me darling.”

Stiles, it turns out, is very persuasive, and it doesn’t take long before he’s riding Peter with wild abandon.

It takes longer this time; they’ve taken the edge off, after all.

And after that, there’s a ~~tiny~~ massive nap, because Stiles is hit by a wall of exhaustion.

 

But when  they finally wake again?

Stiles is relentless, bringing Peter to hardness with his hot, eager, mouth, and then demanding that he take him from behind, presenting on his hands and knees and begging, and Peter presses in fast and deep, and hammers home until Stiles is sobbing with pleasure and need combined.

He fucks Stiles so hard that he’s driven down onto his elbows, a panting, crying mess, and they both come hard.

Afterwards , Peter delicately licks the slick and come from around Stile’s rim, immersing himself in the taste and scent of pregnant omega.

He’s working his tongue gently in and out of Stiles’ hole when the young omega slurs out “S’nice, you can keep doing that” before drifting off to sleep.

Peter indulges himself a little, and licks and laps until Stiles is completely clean.

He falls asleep with the taste of Stiles on his tongue, and he dreams of a tiny dark haired child, a demanding little thing, with wide brown eyes and a mischievous smile.

 

 


End file.
